


It's Only Weird If You Make It Weird

by ThroughTheTulips



Series: 30 Days of Sabriel: An Erratic OTP Challenge By A Lazy Author [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Morning After, Someone Has A Priest Kink, pre-Dean/Castiel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 10:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1602317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThroughTheTulips/pseuds/ThroughTheTulips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I am attempting to jump into the overarching plot a bit more here, and it feels clunky to me. I know this is an OTP Challenge fic and thus should be mainly focused on the OTP, so I am going to make sure to at least put some bonding and what have you in every one. Some will be pure schmoop and some will have more plot. There’s plot-like elements here. Make your peace.</p><p>Sorry about the longish gap. I meant to do this in 30 days, honest I did, but stuff went down and… well, I think we all know how things turned out. Let’s just say I intend to finish.</p>
    </blockquote>





	It's Only Weird If You Make It Weird

**Author's Note:**

> I am attempting to jump into the overarching plot a bit more here, and it feels clunky to me. I know this is an OTP Challenge fic and thus should be mainly focused on the OTP, so I am going to make sure to at least put some bonding and what have you in every one. Some will be pure schmoop and some will have more plot. There’s plot-like elements here. Make your peace.
> 
> Sorry about the longish gap. I meant to do this in 30 days, honest I did, but stuff went down and… well, I think we all know how things turned out. Let’s just say I intend to finish.

**30 Day OTP Challenge**

          Day Seven: Cosplaying          

 

_In Which The Definition Of Cosplaying Is Perhaps a Bit Stretched_

 

            Sam was roused from sleep the next morning by the chorus of “Ramblin’ Man”. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand without opening his eyes, hoping this was something he could sleep through. “Mmm?”

            “Rise and shine, Sammy! We got a case.”

            He cracked an eyelid to look at the clock. “Dean, it’s barely seven o’clock.”

            “Dead bodies at a Holy Roller convention.” His brother sounded far too cheerful for someone talking about murder. “Messy as hell, too. Get your Jesus suit on and be at the car in fifteen.”

            Sam grumbled in reply and hung up. His body felt loose, relaxed, utterly without tension for the first time in years. Better yet, there was still a blond head snuggled against his side. He tucked his chin to smile down at Gabriel. “You stayed.”

            “Hmm, watch a bunch of penitent angels fly formations all night or lounge around soaking up satisfied vibes from a sleeping moose. Tough choice there, kiddo.”

            The hunter winced. “Don’t call me moose. Crowley calls me moose.”

            “Does he, now?” Gabriel ran a possessive hand down his chest. “Sounds like I need to have a talk with him about boundaries. What exactly is your ‘Jesus suit’?”

            Sam’s smile froze. He raked a sheepish hand through his hair, wondering why this should seem so blasphemous after what he’d done to an archangel last night. “Uh. Well, it’s a church convention. Those guys can be pretty close-mouthed around feds, so when we have to talk to them we… dress like priests.”

            He expected a joke, maybe a fake threat. He did _not_ expect Gabriel’s eyes to go wide and dark. “You have a priest’s suit and collar. Right here in this room.”

            “I have all my things right here in this room, Gabriel. Or in the Impala.”

            “Oh, man.” The archangel rolled up to kiss him, vibrating with excitement. “I’m coming with.”

            Surprise had Sam staring. Gabriel rarely went with them on jobs. “It’ll be weird if three- oh wait, Cas- four priests show up.”

            “It’s only weird if you make it weird. C’mon, it’ll be fun.” Gabriel bounced off the bed. “Get dressed. I’ll talk our brothers around, okay?” He disappeared without even snapping. Sam shook his head, laughing. Apparently someone had a priest kink.

            And someone else, he noted with a sheepish downward glance, needed a cold shower. Really cold. He was in for enough teasing as it was.

 

            Years of practice meant that Sam was showered, dressed, and standing by the Impala by the time Dean and Castiel came out of a room a few doors down. The elder Winchester looked him over with a grin. “No jammies today, huh?”

            Sam tried to ignore the flush staining his cheeks. “Where’s Gabriel?”            

            “He said something about getting breakfast.” Dean rummaged in the trunk, handed Castiel a white collar and a dark shirt. “Lose the trench, comb the hair,” he instructed. Cas looked at the collar as though it were a snake but obediently began wriggling out of his coat.

            Sam threw his duffel in the car. “What’s the deal with the convention? We thinking demons?”

            “I doubt it. Too much holy water at those things.” Dean slid behind the wheel and started the car, waiting while the other two got in. “Garth sent us this one. Apparently last night some of the older priests hit the hotel spa. The attendant says she checked them into the sauna and about twenty minutes later they all start screaming bloody murder. The girl thinks maybe there’s a gun, so she hits the panic button and hides behind her desk.”

            “She didn’t check it out first?”

            “She’s all of twenty, man. Fear probably saved her life. Here’s the thing that makes this one of ours. While she’s waiting for the police two of the priests walk out like nothing happened and leave. She doesn’t think they saw her. After they’re gone she goes to look and finds the room red floor to ceiling, but-” Dean held up a finger. “No bodies. Not one. Four priests unaccounted for and the only things they found were a few gallons of blood and some squishy bits here and there.”

            Sam let that sink in. “Sounds like the bodies either went down the drain or… something ate them. Ghoul maybe?”

            “That’s an awful lot of meat for a ghoul,” Gabriel said from behind him. He passed a pair of Styrofoam cups over the seat, following it with a bakery box. “Even two ghouls would leave more than blood. The one with whipped cream is yours, Sammykins. I know how you like whipped cream.”

            Dean scowled as he put the car in gear. “Rule Three, Gabriel. No details.”

            “For crying out- there was no whipped cream, Dean,” Sam said, digging for a donut. “Anyway, everything we say isn’t about… you know.”

            “Yes, I do know,” Castiel said, still fidgeting with the stiff collar. “Given your relaxation and the smirk on Gabriel’s face, I assume you were successful in-”

            “Okay, so who wants a donut?” Sam interrupted hastily.

            His brother snorted but shot him a grateful look. “Give me something with jelly. Cas’ll have the same.”

            Castiel let go of the collar. “My vessel does not need-”

            “Everyone’s having donuts, Cas. Just have one.”

            The angel reached forward to accept the pastry. Gabriel caught Sam’s eye and smirked, but generously decided against teasing. Instead he launched into a story about sneaking into a harem disguised as a dog. Watching him in the rearview, Sam slowly lost focus on the words. The archangel’s mouth had fascinated him for months. Now that he knew, now that he’d felt it go soft under his own and watched it fall open in shocked delight- well, he couldn’t stop thinking of other things he’d like to see that mouth do.

            Sam jerked his eyes away from the mirror. His ears burned, but the images kept playing. He wondered how far Gabriel’s priest kink went, if the collar was enough or if he’d want to roleplay. Maybe he’d want to confess.

            People knelt for confession, didn’t they?

            The Impala rolled over a speed bump, jolting Sam from his daze. They were pulling into the parking lot of a sizeable DoubleTree. He shifted, then froze as he realized he had a serious problem. Showing up at a murder scene hard as a rock wasn’t the best way to win friends and influence people. It definitely wasn’t priestly. He’d have to make an excuse, tell Dean he wanted to check the weapons or something. Get some distance until the problem resolved itself. Shit, this was public, he couldn’t do anything about it if it didn’t “resolve itself”. Not dressed like this, anyway.

            Before he could completely panic a hand slid into his hair. “I like the way you think,” Gabriel murmured in his ear. “But let’s save this for later, hmm?”

            The pressure in Sam’s pants eased, and he relaxed. “Wow. Puberty must be really easy for angels.”

            Dean gave him a weirded-out look. “Do I even want to know?”

            “Probably not,” his brother conceded. He pointed out a cluster of cop cars. “I’m guessing that’s where we need to be.”

            “Yeah, looks like.” The older hunter parked behind a tour bus. “All right, sports fans, this is how it’s gonna go. Me and Sam ask the questions, you guys give the scene the angel mojo once over. Cas, no weird stuff. Gabe, no offering anyone candy. We get in, we case the place, and we get out before real Vatican people show up.”

            Sam nodded, pushing his hair back into some semblance of order. “Sounds good.” He climbed out and looked the group over. He’d expected Gabriel to look bizarre, but he was very sober in a formal cassock. Castiel, though-

            “Damn it, Cas,” Dean said with a sigh. He fished a napkin from the door pocket and began wiping at the ring of powdered sugar around Castiel’s mouth. “Did you get any of that in you?”

             “I don’t require food. Forgive me if I lack practice in eating sugary pastry.” Castiel snatched the napkin. “And I can wipe my own face, Dean. I’m neither a child nor an idiot, whatever you may think.”

            The hunter stepped back, confused and defensive. “I never said you were- can’t a guy help a friend without getting his head bitten off?”

            Blue eyes flashed behind the napkin. “Is that what we are, Dean? Friends? Because-”

            “Um, guys?” Sam interrupted. There were already people looking their way from a taped-off side door. “You seriously need to have this discussion, but it needs to be later. We’re kind of working?”

            Both men glared at him. Gabriel snickered and poked his brother. “Lover’s quarrels can wait, little bro. I’ll make sure your boy shows, okay?”

            “We’re not- son of a bitch, let’s just do this,” Dean growled. He caught Sam’s arm and spun him towards the building. The younger hunter went, knowing Gabriel and Castiel would follow. They were all professional enough to put things aside for the case. Just in case, though, he was getting them rooms somewhere with thick walls. Maybe Dean and Cas would just yell, maybe not, but he didn’t need to hear about it either way.

**Author's Note:**

> I know, it ends clunkily. I just wanted to get this up to break the gap in my posting. I may end up smoothing things out when I get to the end.


End file.
